Smashy
by mortal-wolf
Summary: A police officer is chasing his former friend-turned-criminal out on the highway.


The racecar smashed into two cars, sending them flying up into the air. Officer John Thomson groaned and pulled over to call for reinforcements on his radio.

Steve "Smashy" Rhode had escaped from jail, _again_ , and this time he had stolen a NASCAR racecar. At that moment he was driving amok down the highway, smashing into civilian cars and causing millions of dollars in damage. As the police force's best and fastest driver, John had been called in to deal with him. However, evidently one man wouldn't be enough to stop Smashy.

John angrily shifted the car into drive, ready to pursue the rampant racecar again. He would never forgive what Smashy had done to his family and friends so many years ago. John had never before experienced such a betrayal, and such a backstabber had to be put to justice.

He raced down the road, sirens blaring. Overhead, he heard the _chop-chop-chop_ of a helicopter, and he frowned while twisting the steering wheel around. A helicopter? The police were taking the situation much more seriously than he thought they would. "Officer Thomson", his radio crackled. "This is Chief Smith. Most of our squad has arrived, and I am sending cars in front of Rode to cut him off and trap him. Keep chasing him northeast."

"Roger that," John replied. Now, they would finally be able to arrest Smashy. John kept driving. His engine roared as the speedometer needle crept up to a hundred, the rpm getting dangerously high. No racecar would be able to escape him now- And suddenly Smashy made an extremely sharp turn. John slammed on the brakes. He watched in horror as his fellow police officers didn't stop in time, slamming into an office building.

"Chief Smith! Are you alright?!" John desperately spoke into his radio. What if he had been in one of the cars?

To his relief the radio spoke a moment later. "This is Officer Jack. Chief Smith is in the helicopter with me," Jack shakily said. "More police are being dispatched, and the National Guard and the U.S. military are coming too. Ambulances and fire trucks are arriving. We can not give up."

John listened with agreement, and replied, "I will keep chasing him," and put the pedal to the metal with renewed vigor. Smashy tried to do more sharp turns, but he couldn't outsmart John. However, what Smashy could, and did, do was break into a gold mine and drive through piles of gold, knock down fences, and drive into other police cars, sending them flying.

After an hour of this madness, John was sweating from head to toe. His arms and legs were cramping, and his throat burned with thirst. He pulled over on the side of the road and found out his gas tank was empty. As police sirens and explosions echoed in the distance, John chugged down a bottle of water and spoke into his radio, "This is Officer Thomson. My car is out of gas, and needs to be towed."

"Roger that," an officer replied. "We will send a truck."

John looked up from his radio and saw a giant 4X4 monster truck. He nearly dropped the mic in surprise. "What is this?!" he exclaimed.

"I'm not sure exactly what you're looking at, but I'm guessing that it's the military's new rugged ATV," the officer on the other end of the radio said. "With it we will bring down Smashy in no time."

The ATV pulled up to John, and the driver got out to hook the police car up to it. John climbed into the ATV and sank into the passenger seat. He tried to stay awake, but drifted into an unsettling dream about the betrayal five years ago…

John entered his best friend's room. "Hey Steve, how you doing?" he said.

Steve was sitting in his bed. "Fine, how are you?" he replied.

"I'm doing fine. I just got assigned a case about the murder of a man," John said.

Steve looked up from his bed, and quickly jumped up and gripped John's throat. John wheezed. "I'm sorry I have to do this John, but it is for a greater good," Steve said. John saw Steve's other hand reaching into his pocket and pulling out something. There was an audible click- And suddenly the door burst open. Startled, Steve let go of John. Policeman crowded through the door, now hanging by one nail from the door frame, and swarmed Steve.

There was a pounding pain in John's head as he started to say, "Officer Smith….", but he was already unconscious.

He awoke with a start, breathing heavily. For a moment he thought he was in the hospital again, right after the betrayal had started to sink in, but he realized he was in the seat of the military ATV. " 'Bout time you woke up," the driver said. "Your car is refueled and ready to go." John thanked him, got out of the truck and into his police car. Steve was not going to surprise him this time.

John drove onto the highway again. Smashy didn't try as many tricks on the police officers. It was obvious he was getting tired. Chief Smith spoke through the radio, "Men, I believe that we have a chance at capturing him." Finally, things were going their way.

Suddenly, there was crash ahead. John squinted through the windshield. All the police had gathered at one spot. That could only mean one thing. They had stopped Smashy.

John drove up and got out of his car. He walked over to Chief Smith, who was holding a pair of handcuffs. "You do the honors," Chief Smith said, holding out the handcuffs.

John took the handcuffs and squeezed through the patrol cars to the center of the circle. Three cars had sandwiched the racecar, a splash of red among a sea of black and white. Time seemed to slow as John neared the racecar. Each step seemed to reverberate with the lives lost, the time spent, the pain and the anger all caused by Steve. John felt no sympathy for the criminal that was once his friend.

He neared the door of the racecar, and looked through the glass. The once familiar face, red with exhaustion and streaked with sweat, stared up at him. John tried the door. It was unlocked. "You are under arrest," John said.

Tears were streaming down Steve's face. "John," Steve said. "I can't keep going like this. Getting in jail, causing sadness and anger, I just can't keep going."

"Get out of the car," John said coldly. "Now-" John jerked his hands back as the door slammed shut. John tried to open it, but now it was locked. He banged on the window. The racecar engine roared, and it sprang away, knocking the multiple police cars away like they were toys. John stood there, stunned. Just like that, Smashy had escaped. "After him!" he cried.

As his comrades rushed away, John climbed into his police car and banged at the dashboard. Smashy had gotten away. How could this have happened?! All of a sudden, his radio crackled. "John, you need to see this," Chief Smith said. Tiredly, John started up his car and headed to where Smith had asked him to go. When he got there, he saw that just ahead, Smashy was racing at top speed toward the river.

John scrambled out of his car. "What is he doing?!" he yelled. He ran after Smashy's car, but it was going too fast. John watched in horror as the racecar sailed out over the water. The racecar seemed to just hang there, and John saw Steve again in his mind, as his friend, and he saw the good still left in Steve. Then the racecar dropped into the river.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" John screamed. He took off toward the water, and threw himself into the river. The icy cold water engulfed him like a blanket. His uniform weighed him down, and he gasped for air, but no air came. Slowly, the darkness came, and stayed.

John woke up, and half opened his eyes. He saw his colleagues and Chief Smith. They appeared to be saying something, but John couldn't understand them. He drifted back into the darkness.

He woke up again. A doctor stood next to him. "Ah, you are finally awake, John," he said.

"How long has it been?" John croaked.

"You have been out for two days," the doctor said. "You were lucky that one of your colleagues pulled you out in time. You can go home in five days."

John sat back in the bed and closed his eyes. Fatigue coursed through his body. He tried not to, but he fell asleep again.

Sunlight streamed through the windows. It was daytime. John had woken up again. Drowsily, he looked around. He had not really paid attention to his surroundings until now. He noticed his briefcase on a table near his bed, and got up to get it. His laptop was inside it. He got back into bed with the laptop, opened it up, and started typing. He knew in his mind what Steve had done was honorable, and he knew how exactly how to honor him.

He was going to make a video game.


End file.
